


when you call out my name in rapture, I volunteer my soul for murder

by The_Consulting_Werewolf



Series: i blame all the sexy songs for this [11]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Ambiguity, Barebacking, I'm Serious, M/M, Plot Twists, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, hinted Cannibalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 14:38:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19703419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Consulting_Werewolf/pseuds/The_Consulting_Werewolf
Summary: Yifan visits a temple during a heavy downpour and meets the most ethereal man he has ever seen. How can he even resist such a temptation?





	when you call out my name in rapture, I volunteer my soul for murder

**Author's Note:**

> fic title is taken from the song Blackhearted Love by PJ Harvey

Yifan has never seen it rain so hard in the three years he had been living here. Sure, he knows this coastal town gets a lot of rain during the monsoons, but he has never seen it flooding so badly. He has seen the sea rush onto streets and flow down the roads, washing away anything in its way. But today, it has been raining nonstop since the morning and the water levels have reached so high that some of his friends living on the bottom of the hills have left their homes due to the water entering their houses. Yifan lives higher above but he can see the water rushing down the streets from his window. He scowls, shakes his head and drags the curtain across the window.

Having rented the house ten feet away from the police station has its advantages and its disadvantages. He is the only one on duty because he lives this close and every other officer is home, unwilling to wade through the flood water. So far, he hasn’t received any calls but who knows. He has spent the good part of his shift today swatting at mosquitoes. Usually, nothing much happens in this town besides some burglary, tourists getting lost, fishermen getting into drunken brawls and cats getting caught up in trees. In the three years Yifan has been posted here, the only death he had to deal with as Senior Officer was a man slipping down the embankment and cracking his skull open. Well, there are those unsolved missing cases of young men but those happen so infrequently and time moves on for everyone else, so those cases get forgotten and even the public forgets. 

This town is pretty with lush green hills and the never-ending beaches. The main industry here is fishing and then tourism. There are some awesome places to see here, like the pebble beaches, hiking trails, the war museum and a bunch of Buddhist temples. Yifan doesn’t mind living here—this is a far better station than the one he was in up north. At least, here, he’s in no danger of getting frostbites.

It is the fourth hour of his shift and he is bored, so mighty bored. He stretches, yawns and decides to make himself a cup of coffee. As he is walking towards the break room, the main line rings. Yifan presses his lips, look outside again and just sighs. Duty calls, he supposes. He picks the phone up and says, “Yuèliànghé Division, Senior Officer Wu speaking, how may I help?”

“Yifan, dear? It’s Auntie Bing.”

Yifan knows Auntie Bing, she owns a small restaurant up in the hills and Yifan likes the noodles she makes, so he is a frequent visitor. He smiles, “Yes, auntie, tell me?”

“Dear, you know the little abandoned temple above my restaurant?”

“Yes, yes I know.”

“Yifan, I think, someone’s in there. You know what happened to that other temple, right? So I thought some kids are in there, vandalizing the property or something.” She laughs, “I know it’s raining cats and dogs out there, but can you go check?”

Yifan mentally groans; he remembers the annoying teenagers who vandalised another abandoned temple down south. He says, “It’s alright, auntie, I will go check. You stay safe. You okay up there, right?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. Come over for dinner tonight. I’m sure you’ve done no shopping with all the raining!”

The woman chuckles and Yifan feels guilty and his whole face heats up. “Of course, auntie. I will go now. Bye.”

Yifan looks outside again and something inside him shrivels and dies, but duty is duty, he has to go. He shoves his feet into rubber boots, grabs his heavy raincoat and prepares himself mentally to face nature at its full potential. As soon as he steps out, a gust of wind slaps his face, spraying it with water. He groans again and gets into his police car, heading up the hill to visit the temple.

There are half a dozen temples that was built years and years ago and abandoned during the wars. The one Mrs Bing is talking about is one of those temples that prayed to some obscure water god. People stopped visiting it after a landslide and someone took the shrine down and made a new temple by the seashore. Yifan has only seen fishermen pay homages to this god. He’s not very religious himself, so he really hasn’t bothered to check these temples himself ever.

The roads are empty (obviously), so it doesn’t take him too long to get to the temple. Well, there’s no straight road to the temple, but he stops his car at the foot of the hill where the temple rests. There are stairs carved out of the side of the hill and it is a steep climb. The rain has turned the earth muddy and Yifan grimaces a bit. He really hates trudging through mud but at least his feet are protected. He just needs to carefully make his way and not slip and fall and crack his head.

He takes it slow and the climb feels like it is going on forever. The rain slashes across his face, the cold water sneaking under his raincoat and slowly wetting his shirt. His shoes are lost under the mud he’s stepping into. By the time he reaches the top, his shirt is sopping wet and his blue boots are now brown. The rain was a bit tamer when he was climbing up but now it suddenly turns wild and it is raining so hard that he can’t even see the opposite peak.

Yifan starts grumbling to himself as he walks up the stoned pathway. When he gets home, he will take a long, hot bath and make the strongest cup of ginger tea with honey and never step out again, or for the next two months, his duty be damned. But who’s he kidding, this is his job and his mother needs the financial help and he is a good son.

The temple is beautiful, even in its unkempt state. The stoned path is cracked and the wooden gate has darkened with age with green moss covering most of it. The ropes swinging from the top are fraying with small, greening copper bells. The path beyond the gate is lined with huge pine trees with their trunks covered in moss. The building stands, deteriorating but still stunning. Yifan takes a moment to admire the moss-covered stone stairs and crumbling granite statues leading to the wooden structure. Some tiles are missing and the windows are missing some glass panes and the insides are dark, gloomy.

When Yifan puts his foot on the first step, he gasps when he notices a light at a window. He hurries up the stairs and he finds the door open, which gets him more suspicious. He opens it and he frowns when he sees a short man lighting a lamp by what would have been the shrine. He was expecting damp but it is strangely dry inside, and light too. There are lamps alight along the walls and all over the shrine. He clears his throat and the man turns around, frowning. He is young, slim and has grey eyes. He is dressed in a cheongsam and that makes Yifan frown some more. The other man asks, “Yes, who may you be?”

Yifan pushes the hood of his raincoat down his wet hair and questions back instead, “Who are you?”

“I am Lu Han, servant to my lord,” Lu Han bows. He eyes Yifan from head to toe and says, “Are you a policeman?”

Yifan nods, “Uh huh, but who—”

“Han, is the room ready? I would really like to rest.”

The voice comes from behind Yifan and he turns around to find possibly the most beautiful man he had ever laid his eyes on. His hair is wet, long and pushed to the side as he dries it with a rag. He is dressed in a blue silk robe, sash loosely tied around his waist, exposing most of his chest, and his strangely luminous skin. Yifan knows he is staring but he can’t. The man steps under a light and Yifan learns his eyes are a strange mix of blue and green. Suddenly, the man smiles, “And who are you?”

Yifan is gaping, trying to not stare like an idiot but he can’t stop. The man inches closer still and Yifan notices he has a mole atop his lips and his cheeks are flushed the lightest pink. He’s so beautiful—Yifan is sure he has never met anyone this beautiful. But, Yifan realizes, there is a hint of danger in those eyes as they check him out as well. He snaps out of whatever spell he was under and puts on his best police officer voice as he says, “This is private property and I believe you’re trespassing.”

The servant, Lu Han, clears his throat and Yifan turns his head around to look at him. To be honest, Yifan had forgotten another person existed in this room. Lu Han speaks, “This is our property. The temple belongs to the Lu family, which is me, and this uh, Lord Suho, who is our benefactor. And you’d be trespassing,” he glares at Yifan’s dirty shoes, “And dredging mud all over the clean floors.”

Yifan frowns; he can check that information out back at the station, so he doubts this Lu Han is lying to him. He turns to look back at the other man, Suho, who is smirking, still looking at Yifan as if he’s the most interesting thing he had seen. Suho says, “Oh, Han, let him stay. It’s raining and he looks tired, and,” he comes closer, so much closer that Yifan gets the faintest whiff of lotuses and jasmines coming from Suho, “Wet.” He licks his lips, biting down on his lower lip before tilting his head and whispering, “Why don’t you dry yourself up here mister officer?”

Yifan swallows; _fuck_ , he’s staring again. The sleeves of his robe slip down and expose his arms, which are pale and smooth, and Yifan thinks he sees faint tattoos on them. But the offer is tempting, it is still raining hard outside and his shirt is sticking to his chest and his hair is awfully wet too. He nods and Suho smiles bigger, “Han, get the officer some towels and perhaps a dry shirt? Please?”

Lu Han bows and scurries away. Suho waves his hand, pointing at the carpet spread in front of the shrine. He says, “Take off your shoes and raincoat, officer. It’s okay, we’re not common thieves or anything.”

Yifan feels like he is slipping under a spell again. Suho’s voice is soft, melodious with a deep bass underneath it. Yifan doesn’t know why but his skin prickles with a heat he can’t recognize. But he listens; he removes his shoes and puts it by the wall. He removes his raincoat and dumps that by the shoes as well. He touches his shirt, wincing at how wet the front has become. Suho grins, “Take it off, officer, you will get sick.”

Solid reasoning, Yifan thinks, he would get sick. He slowly unbuttons his shirt and peels the garment off his torso. When he looks up, he finds Suho looking at his chest, his expression unabashed and he licks his lips again. Yifan smirks to himself; seems like Zitao dragging him to the gym paid off. Wait, why is he even bothered about that?

Suho sits down, his knees tucked underneath. He smiles up at Yifan and pats the space in front of him. Yifan is less graceful than Suho as he sits down. Lu Han returns, tray in hand. He hands Yifan a towel and a dry shirt. He also puts down a tray with tea on it. Suho pours the fragrant tea into cups and Lu Han makes himself scarce again. What an obedient servant, Yifan muses. 

Yifan is rubbing his hair with a towel as Suho hands Yifan a cup of tea. Yifan accepts it with a small smile and says, “Thank you.”

Suho takes his cup and watches Yifan put on the shirt. It is a bit tight and stretches obscenely across his shoulders, Suho licks his lips again. Gosh, he hasn’t come across a man as attractive as Yifan in a while, in a _long_ while. Yifan is tall and broad, which Suho likes very much in men. He has long, dark hair, pouty lips and his skin is nicely tanned, a light golden tan that one gets from spending too much time in the sun. And he has long, slender fingers. Suho can’t help but imagine how they would look against his body.

Yifan sips at the tea and he asks, “I must ask, why you are here? Are you staying here? I mean, I’m sure there are better places to stay in this town.”

Suho smiles, running his hand through his hair, “I come here every now and then. I need to. And I don’t mind this place, I never have.” Suho looks around the room, his smile softening, “I like it here, I always liked it here. The sea, the hills, the trees.”

Yifan nods, “It’s a beautiful place.”

Suho agrees, “Yes, I agree.” He turns to look at Yifan and tilts his head to the side. Yifan’s eyes zero in on the curve of Suho’s neck and he wonders if it’s as smooth and soft as it looks, or how it would look like with a few bite marks down it. Yifan shakes his head; he has never lusted after someone on first sight—maybe his colleagues are right, he needs to get laid. He focuses his attention back on Suho as the latter asks, “So, you’re not from here, are you?”

Yifan smiles, “What gave me away?”

Suho chuckles, “You hate mud!”

The rain keeps pouring like there’s no tomorrow outside as Yifan and Suho talk. Yifan tells him about his life as a police officer and the city he was in before coming to Yuèliànghé. Suho listens attentively, even asking the right questions. Yifan doesn’t realise when they had moved closer but when Suho touches his hair, Yifan is suddenly made aware. Suho is so close, so beautiful and he smells so good that before Yifan can register what he’s doing, he leans down and presses his lips against Suho’s.

Yifan jerks back in the next moment, an apology on the tip of his tongue but Suho doesn’t let him as he curls his fingers around Yifan’s nape and pulls him down to kiss him. Suho kisses him gently, and his lips are so soft, so warm. He pulls back slightly and he murmurs, “I don’t mind if you don’t.”

Yifan doesn’t usually do this but god, Suho’s lips are tempting and his eyes are hooded, the blue and green in them pulling Yifan deeper into the desire he feels thrumming under his skin. He whispers, “I, I don’t Suho.”

“Yifan,” Suho says as he moves closer, putting his hand over Yifan’s rapidly beating heart. “I like your name, Yifan.”

Yifan smiles, putting his hands around Suho’s hips, pulling him over his lap. When Suho settles comfortably, Yifan finally gets to check if Suho’s skin is as soft as it looks. He traces the curve of Suho’s neck and watches as the skin raises under his touch and he takes a deep breath. Suho feels the tendrils of desire wrap around him; he can sense Yifan is going to be extremely _satisfactory_.

They kiss again, their lips crashing against each other. Suho kisses with so much passion and hunger that Yifan is astonished but he loves it. He kisses back just as fervently, matching each slide of lips, each brush of tongue. His hands roam all over the blue silk, feeling Suho’s body heat through the flimsy material. His hand cup Suho’s rather ample behind and hears Suho moan into the kiss. He does it again, this time with both hands and Suho breaks the kiss to gasp loudly. Yifan takes a moment to look at Suho for a moment, at his bruised lips and his flushed face. God, he is _ethereal._

Suho grins down at Yifan and cups his jaw. He leans forward and sucks lightly on Yifan’s plump lower lip. Yifan groans and his grip on Suho’s waist tightens. Suho says, “Take it off, Yifan.”

Every time Suho takes his name, it sounds so different. He quickly takes off his shirt and Suho pushes him down on the carpet. He straddles Yifan’s hips and smiles down as he slides the robe down his shoulder. Yifan was right, he did see tattoos in faint black on his left arm, it covers his whole arm and shoulder. There are waves and curling vines tattooed all across, and Yifan lightly traces a line. Suho asks, “Do you like them?”

Yifan nods, “Yeah, I do.”

Suho smiles wider, “Mm, I like you. You’re so sweet, Yifan.” He leans closer and kisses down Yifan’s neck, whispering, “So gorgeous, and I want you so much.” He stops right over Yifan’s pulse and asks, “Do you want me?”

Yifan exhales, “Yes, yes I do.” And he does, so much. Suho is warm and comfortable atop him nestled snuggly against his cock that is getting harder every second. His blood is rushing and his pulse is the only thing he can hear. He slides his hands under the robe and Suho bites his lip as Yifan’s hands move higher and higher. Suho decides to return the favour and grinds down Yifan’s crotch, making the latter gasp out. Suho does it again, and again, and Yifan throws his head back, the veins in his neck popping.

Suho scoots down a bit and looks down at the tent in Yifan’s pants. He touches it through the fabric, moving his hand up and down, squeezing in the middle. Yifan moans loudly, and it makes Suho smile. Oh, this is going well. He decides to move on to disrobing Yifan entirely, so he unzips and pushes the pants down his legs, along with the underwear. Suho can’t help lick his lips when he finally gets to see the officer in all his naked glory. Suho wraps his hand around the root of Yifan’s cock and licks at the tip before wrapping his lips around it. He sucks lightly and licks down the shaft, tracing the pulsing vein. Yifan moans out his name and some incoherent words. Suho feels good at the thought of making Yifan feel good. This is, after all, for them both.

Suho pauses, straightening up but he keeps slowly stroking Yifan’s cock, enjoying the weight and feel of it in his hand. Yifan chokes out, laughing a bit, “Are you gonna keep doing that all day?”

Suho chuckles, “I don’t intend to, no.” He licks his lips again and for a second, Yifan thinks his eyes flash red but maybe that is a trick of a light because they are blue-green again. Suho removes the robe and Yifan looks on in wonder at how beautiful every inch of Suho is. His cock curves up, slightly leaking at the top. Yifan cups the tip and rubs it, making Suho shut his eyes, throw his head back and moan.

Suddenly, Suho puts a hand over Yifan’s wrist and shakes his head, smiling, “Enough.”

Yifan watches Suho grab his cock again and raise himself a little, positioning himself. Yifan becomes worried, grabbing Suho’s hips as he says, “Hey, wait, you—”

Suho grins, “Don’t worry, I had my fun in the bath.”

Yifan wants to question but he ends up grinning back. But they are both not smiling as Suho sinks down on him. Yifan gasps as Junmyeon pushes himself down, his hole sucking him in. When Yifan is completely sheathed, Suho moans loudly, “Oh my god, you _feel_ so _good_.”

And Yifan does. Suho has never felt someone go so deep inside him, filling him up so much that he is struggling to catch his breath. Yifan is pushing him to his very limits, and he _loves_ it. But he needs more, so he raises himself before slowly sinking down again. Yifan gasps out, “Suho, take it easy, yeah? Don’t hurt yourself.”

Suho smiles, feeling his body heating up at the concern. This officer is so sweet, truly so. He says, “Don’t worry, I can handle this.” He leans down to kiss Yifan. “I can handle you.”

Yifan wraps his arms around Suho and kisses him deeply. And before Suho can fathom, Yifan shifts their position. Suho is on his back and Yifan looms over him, desire swirling in his eyes and Suho thinks this is so appropriate—the officer taking him right in front of the shrine. Suho cups Yifan’s neck and whispers, “Take me Yifan, all of this.”

It was like Yifan was waiting for Suho’s permission because he suddenly thrusts making him moan loudly, feeling no shame at the fact that Han just might hear him. Yifan pushes in and out of him, and Suho can feel the drag of it along his rim, and it hurts a bit but it feels so good. Suho throws his head back as Yifan curves over him, kissing him all over his chest. His teeth catch on Suho’s nipple and he tugs at it. Suho cries, “Yifan!”

Yifan groans against his sternum, “Say my name again Suho.”

“Yifan, Yifan,” Suho gasps. “You feel so good, please, please, _more_.”

Yifan heeds and bends Suho’s knees, fucking into him deeper and faster. Suho usually doesn’t relinquish control this easily, but he happily lets go under Yifan. Yifan thrusts right into the spot that makes Suho see stars behind his eyelids and fire fills his veins. He feels it, feels the end nearing, congregating in one place, expanding. He winds his hand down but Yifan is faster and he starts stroking Suho fast, his voice close to his ear as he whispers, “Let go, if you want to.”

And Suho does, he shuts his eyes and lets the heat engulf him whole as he climaxes. But Yifan isn’t done, he lets Suho unbend his knees but Suho wraps them around his waist. His hands clutch at Yifan’s back and moans, “Come on Yifan, come on, let go.”

Yifan crashes his mouth on Suho’s and the kiss is harsh but breath-taking. Suho kisses back, and he knows he should be taking this moment now, but then Yifan finally comes inside him. Suho shudders as Yifan’s hot cum coats his walls and his cock keeps moving in and out, and the squelching sound almost makes Suho blush.

Yifan slumps over Suho when he’s done and tries to catch his breath. Suho forces air into his lungs as well as he leaves small, tender kisses along Yifan’s shoulder. He whispers, “You okay?”

Yifan raises himself on his elbow and says, “I’m fine.” He cups Suho’s cheek and says, “You okay?”

Suho grins, “Oh, I’m better than okay.”

Yifan blushes and Suho can’t help but feel his heart softened by that a little. _Too bad_.

Yifan pulls out finally and flops down beside Suho, who crawls onto his side and puts his head on Yifan’s shoulder. Suho traces nonsense patterns on Yifan’s chest and thinks, maybe he can enjoy this a little longer. He has no hurry and the rains will last some time, after all.

The rain has stopped for the moment, so Yifan heads back down the stairs. He waves at Suho, who waves right back. Lu Han watches the whole thing from a distance. He knew those two made love but he doesn’t understand why Suho—Junmian—let the mortal go. When Junmian is back inside, Lu Han raises an eyebrow at him. Junmian sees it and scoffs, putting his hands on his hips

Lu Han says, “What? You never let them go. I mean, by this time, I would have to bring out the mop and bucket and start cleaning this whole place.” Okay, he does cheat by using his powers to clean after Junmian every time, but it’s still tiresome.

Junmian grins; his eyes turn red and his canines elongate, “Oh, Han, it’s not like I’ve never played with my food before.”

**Author's Note:**

> if you have questions, hit me up on [https://twitter.com/ConsultinWerew1](url) or just leave a comment here. ;)


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